A Certain Military Academy
by Vladimir Zhivanevskaya
Summary: AU: The scientific phenomenon known as Academy City uses Ability Users for military purposes, political schemes, and anything else that furthers its interests. These Ability Users are in high demand, a small group having the potential to obliterate armies. Misaka Mikoto is one of them, a powerful electromaster whose most devastating technique doubles as her codename: The Railgun.
1. Chapter 1

Hey, people! How's it going? The preview is right below if you want to get into it; I'm just going to explain some things. This was an idea that sprung from "A Certain Scientific Railgun", a manga/anime that is an offshoot of the actual anime/manga this is under (it's in the same world, but follows different characters). I don't know if this has been done before, but the idea popped into my head, and I had to run with it. I don't know if this is Alternate _Universe_, or Alternate Reality instead. Hmm...perhaps it is simply my own Personal Reality XD.

To Aru Kagaku No Choudenjibou story idea:

AU: What would the world be like if Academy City used Ability Users for military purposes, political schemes, and anything else that would further its interests? AcademyCity is backed by the Japanese government, but contracts with other nations if the pay is right. The Ability Users are in high demand, a small group having the potential to take out entire armies. Trained from birth in their abilities (with a healthy dose of indoctrination), these individuals vary in power and specialty; from those who can obtain information from animals to ungodly beings who can level buildings without much difficulty. The latter represents the strength of the elite few who are given the rank of level five, those who have the raw talent needed to become the best. Unfortunately for the directors of the City, there are only seven of these powerhouses (and three of them are too mentally unstable to be of any use). Misaka Mikoto is one of them, a level five electromaster whose most devastating power doubles as her codename: The Railgun.

Chapter 1

Sand, sand, and more sand…

An American black ops team sat huddled in the lee side of a dune. They were decked out in camo gear—sandy-colored clothing that would make it hard for anyone who didn't know where they were to see them.

"This is bullshit." The gruff voice came from a giant of a man with a distinct African heritage, though his face was covered with paint so he wouldn't stand out in the pale landscape.

His commander was one of those "white" mixes, with traces of ancestry to just about every European country one could think of. At just over fifty, John Coulter was older than the rest of his unit, but his track record was undeniable: after a stint in the navy where he received a few medals for impressive performance, he then went on to be recruited for special ops, jokingly saying he would retire when he failed his first mission. Over fifteen years later, and he was still out in the field.

"Can it, Johnson."

"Sir, come on…"

"I said, 'can it'!"

The large man cut off his reply, a scowl settling on his face. His squad-mates watched the exchange sympathetically.

Coulter faced forwards, ignoring the glare of his subordinate, but even he felt uneasy with this situation. A girl stood a few feet away, wearing the formal uniform of the Academy City Military Ensemble: a black suit complete with tie and hat, the only ornamentation being a five-pointed star on her shoulder. He sighed; there was little point in being concealed if she was wearing something so noticeable. He didn't have all the details (though he rarely ever did), but the situation went something like this:

The U.S. had, in the past years, come to stand on more agreeable terms with the middle-eastern world. In fact, in the country of [undisclosed], where they were now, delicate talks were underway for trade and possible alliance. The problem was, a rather large insurgent group was making things difficult. They would attack both ambassadors and civilians alike in the places where the talks took place, harassing the otherwise peaceful population of [undisclosed]. There were other numerous crimes, but both the host country and the U.S. wanted them gone. The problem was that the U.S. couldn't just be seen to walk in and take care of the problem (that included just Tomahawking the place), and [undisclosed] was in a tight spot and couldn't spare the amount of men it would need to combat the rebels. Eventually, they arrived at an agreement: they and the U.S. would hire a third party with no affiliations to either of them—namely, Academy City—so that the leaders of [undisclosed] could assure their people that they could solve their problems, and the U.S. leaders could speak about "bringing forth harmony and cooperation with the middle east". Win-Win.

Consequently, Coulter's team was told to rendezvous with the ACME agent, and that is how they found themselves in the situation they were in now. This was actually the best time to strike; intelligence suggested that the leaders were holding a tactics meeting today, and all of them would be present at this particular compound. As he was thinking about it, a dust cloud made its way up the road, revealing itself to be the caravan of Jeep™ vehicles that contained the last target.

A few minutes after the convoy entered the compound, the girl turned to Coulter. "I'll go and take out their main defenses; you come in after I give the all clear." She tapped her earpiece, and without another word, took off towards the insurgent base.

Coulter didn't like this one bit, but he had his orders, and though he was often reprimanded for taking certain liberties, a gut feeling made him think that maybe this was for the best.

* * *

_Yesterday, 1900 hours…_

Misaka Mikoto was in the middle of her physical training when the runner arrived. Even though her raw power was rated number 3 in The City and number 1 in the military ensemble, she was put through rigorous martial arts and combat exercises. Today's scenario was "fighting a group blindfolded without use of Active Abilities". The name is fairly self-explanatory; indeed, the girl in question stood in the center of a group of people wearing a blindfold, and was expected to fight them off.

The first man attacked without warning, punching out at the side of her head as if it was a board he was supposed to break. The level five dodged it with ease, as well as the next series of attacks that came at her. She counterattacked a few times, but the amount of strikes coming at her prevented her from doing any real harm; at her current skill and size, she lacked the ability to incapacitate her opponent in a single move.

The instructor watched intently, picking up every wasted movement and sloppy execution on both sides of the fight. She waited until the girl started to slow down, her movements belying her fatigue. Pulling out her service pistol, the woman aimed carefully, watching for a lull in the girl's movements before pulling the trigger. A loud bang echoed throughout the room, putting a stop to the group's attacks. The messenger looked on in amazement as she noticed the bullet floating in mid-air about a foot away from the girl's right arm, effectively rendered harmless.

"Gh." The girl flinched and dropped the bullet, taking off her blindfold to reveal a sheepish expression.

"What part of "no Active Abilities" don't you understand?" The instructor yelled at her. "If you aren't aware of your surroundings, you'll be killed!"

Mikoto sighed audibly. Her power allowed her to sense her surroundings using EM waves as radar, and reduced her reaction time for objects traveling within the field—especially those directed towards her—to such an extent that it was barely even measurable. Tests had been done (a fairly common occurrence) to measure that ability…she was placed in front of a Railgun that shot that shot with more and more force until the repercussions actually _broke_ the thing. They hadn't been very happy about that, but it wasn't _her_ fault: that portion of her ability was practically autonomous, anyways. Even a laser was ineffective, which didn't make much sense to her, since if it came at the speed of light, how could she have time to react to it? Apparently it had to do with the splitting of same-shell electrons—some sort of instantaneous communication that she didn't really understand the mechanics of.

That said, she _should_ have been able to notice the gun aimed at her, know the second the trigger was being pulled, and be able to dodge based on the position of the barrel. Or at least, that's what her instructor was currently lecturing her on.

"Do you understand me, Specialist Misaka?"

Mikoto hadn't been listening that closely. "H…hai."

Her instructor didn't look convinced, but before she could get into another lecture on listening to one's superiors, the messenger interrupted her. "Excuse me, ma'am, I-"

"It's 'sir', Private."

"What?" Mikoto shook her head at the hapless newbie.

"I am your superior officer, and you will address me as 'sir'."

The man glanced at her uniform, blanched, then saluted, "Sir! I have a message from command. The Railgun has been requested for an outside mission. Have her report to briefing room six ASAP."

The instructor nodded, then turned to Mikoto. "You heard the man, 'Railgun', go do your job."

The girl gave a cursory salute and jogged off down the hall, leaving behind a very surprised messenger. The instructor grinned; that one never got old.

* * *

Mikoto sat in the briefing room, waiting for whoever was supposed to give her the assignment. She wondered what it could be. She knew that, though ACME was technically a military branch of The City, it acted more like a mercenary group, lending their forces to the highest bidder. Someone must have paid a lot to get her, because The Railgun's going price was upwards of six figures, depending on the circumstances.

When potential customers looked at the ACME portfolio, it had five levels of payment that came with a rough estimate of the power that went with it. Of course, the prices in these levels were reliant on whether you wanted home defense or a tactical incursion, but the level five tagline was, in essence: "If this can't solve your problem, nothing can."

Mikoto sat up attentively as the door opened, and Major Yamamoto walked in. He was an older, balding man who was about as easy-going as Majors get. "All right, let's see here." He shuffled some papers around and laid a few sheets on the table, "There's this insurgent group that our clients want gone, and since they were so generous in their payment, you're going to be taking care of it."

He tapped one of the sheets of paper, "This is the information we have on the group—a few hundred men with relatively modern weaponry. You'll be rendezvousing with an American strike team who will tell you their objectives, and direct you to the base." He pointed to another printout, this one a satellite image of a flat stretch of desert with a large fortress-type structure in the middle of it. "To be honest, we probably don't need someone of your caliber to complete this mission, but the higher ups saw as an opportunity for some cheap publicity. As you can see, the terrain is perfect for your signature move, so make sure to use it. Almost every eye in the international community will be watching, and will be expecting a "comprehensive view of the capabilities of level five power"…in other words, make it as flashy as possible."

* * *

As Mikoto walked across the open plain, she tapped her com piece to get the person's attention at the other end. "Oi, Uiharu, what am I looking at here?"

Her Intel assist today was a petite girl who had flowers in her hair, a weak constitution, a penchant for sweets, and was a skilled computer expert given the nickname "goalkeeper" due to her knack for creating very effective security systems.

"I spot three armors at your 2 o'clock, and another two at your 11. There are 17 light armored vehicles: six of them hummers with mounted 50-cal machine guns, the others a variety of Jeeps and troop transports. Let's see, on the walls there are a few 50-cal turrets again, some Bofors guns…is that a Howitzer? How the heck did they get that? Watch out for that. The enemy group is equipped with AR-15s, Uzis and MAC-10s, grenades; the classic AK-47s and RPG-7s are there as well."

"Anything else I should know about?"

"Hmm…well, they're pretty cautious, and judging by their weaponry, I'd say there's a good chance that they've set up some land mines, so careful where you step."

"Gh…thanks, Uiharu. Tell me if anything unexpected comes up."

Mikoto sighed audibly—this was going to be tiring. Normally, taking on such a force was not a big deal, but she had been ordered to "put on a show", as it were, which meant that she would have to use her railgun ability.

She reached into her pocket and removed what looked like a bullet. Not that it mattered—she could use practically any metal object she could get her hands on—but The City had created special rounds for her use exclusively, aerodynamic tungsten projectiles used for their high electrical conductivity and tensile strength. She was given two sizes: 5cm and 10cm (2 and 4 inches, respectively), though she usually relied on the former to get things done.

Spotting her first target (a Type-90 tank), she lifted her arm and aimed it straight at the tank. Manipulating the charge along her arm, she formed a magnetic field that launched the slug at around 1030m/s, over three times the speed of sound. The slug pierced the armored shell of the tank and passed through it before impacting the ground at the other side. The tank was now nothing more than scrap-metal, the meter-wide hole at its center rendering it harmless. Grinning, she took out another round.

The average railgun took about 15-30MJ (megajoules) of power (the equivalent of a freight train hitting something at top speed). Mikoto was able to produce actual lightning, which measured at 500MJ, without too much difficulty, which led to her having practically no limit on the amount of times she could use this ability.

Half a minute later, the tanks lay in smoking heaps. Mikoto could see figures running about on the walls, probably wondering what in Allah's name was happening. She started jogging; better to fight them while they were still disorganized and panicked.

Until now, she had been relying on her normal eyesight, but now she took out a pair of dark sunglasses, which doubled as an assistive aiming device. Slipping them on, she zoomed in on the walls, identifying fortifications and stopping every so often to take them out.

At this time, the defenders started to return fire, bullets spattering the ground around her, sprays of sand hitting against her trousers. It wasn't that they had bad aim, but that the bullets were being pushed to the side by the magnetic field she had created around herself. Aiming once more at the walls, she was about to let loose when the sound of an engine reached her ears. Around the side of the fortress came the light vehicles Uiharu had been talking about. Adjusting her aim, Mikoto took out the front vehicle, prompting the others to swerve around it and spread out, surrounding her. To be fair, it was a sound tactic against that ability—it was powerful, sure, but at eight rounds a minute, there was no way she could get them all before they surrounded her. At that point, she would be spending more energy than she wanted to on simply redirecting bullets.

A large electric shock fried the electrical systems in the vehicles, and blew out some of their tires. Most of them kept coming, their outdated systems too primitive to be an integral part of their mechanics. Using magnetism, she lifted one of the hummers and smashed it into one of the smaller Jeeps, causing a satisfying twenty-foot ball of fire to erupt into the air. The men were clearly visible now, every gun locked onto her position. As the hail of bullets smashed soundly into the lakebed in front of her, she noticed a large, fast object pass into her EM field. The Howitzer had fired on her.

Acting quickly, she punched her hand into the ground, causing a huge mass of Magnetite—better known as ironsand—to rush up into the air, where she hurriedly shaped it into a huge circular shield, using magnetism to keep it together as the shell exploded against it, causing a shockwave that nearly blew her hat off. Spinning the ironsand around herself, she used it to slice up the closing vehicles, sending crashing to the ground. Taking out a 10cm bullet, she used her ocular aid to pinpoint the Howitzer's position. Arcs of electricity flashed around her as she powered up, readying for the magnetic field that would exist momentarily between her fingers.

A terrible silence filled the vicinity as the world just _stopped_. Blasting from her general direction was a cylinder of light 2 meters across that rent the air as it reached half a kilometer away to cut through the howitzer like butter, moving with so much energy that it cut a hole out of a sand dune on the other side, leaving glass in its wake.

All across the globe, the elite of the world sat in front of their screens in various levels of shock, all thinking the same thing: _"…so this is the power of Level Five!"_

[End]

So, this is my first attempt at a "one-shot"...how d'you like it?

I know it says Chapter 1, but as of now, this doesn't exactly have a plot, so I'll wait and see if anyone likes it *shrugs*. I do have more action scenes in my head (more violence? Hell yeah!), as well as ideas for other characters (such as Kuroko and Misaki), so when I'm not too busy, more will most definitely come.

Read and Review!

Acceptable reviews: compliments, complaints, grammar/spelling corrections, suggestions/ideas, witty insults (regular ones are fine, but not as fun), rants, etc.

_Unacceptable_ reviews: Anything praising the attributes of songs by Bruno Mars.

**Addendum:** for those of you who don't know me (i.e. most of you), I like to put a healthy amount of science into my fiction, because it adds realism (also, science is cool). I usually stick asterisks* on the end of sentences to reference something in the addendum, but I don't mind trying new things :P. Here you will find various descriptions of in-story concepts that I didn't think I could reasonably fit into the flow of the story.

Railgun's dissipation of lasers: electric and magnetic fields have little to no effect on light itself, so that's a no-go. However, after some research, I found that it is plausible, as Mikoto's power has a definite energy-manipulation aspect to it [see fight with Meltdowner—more on fan wiki]. By forcing the electrons to lose energy, and by manipulating energy transfer, she could (in theory) cause the power of the laser to be absorbed by the electrons. That energy would have to dissipate somewhere, and it seems like she converts it to electrical energy, but can't control it and dissipate the laser's power at the same time (also, the transformation takes enough energy that, even for her, indefinite defense is impossible).

AcademyCity's Specialist rank: ACME operatives receive a rank according to experience and aptitude—much like other militaries around the world. There was a problem, however: Ability Users (a significant amount of their force) were often extremely useful on the field, but not experienced enough for command positions. Giving them the rank "Private" would cause internal argument, so, taking after an old U.S. military standard, the rank of specialist was created. To be given the rank of Specialist, an individual had to either be 1) exceptionally skilled in a certain field(s), or 2) be an Ability User, level three or higher. The latter acquire the rank automatically, and due to this fact, the term "Specialist" has become synonymous with "Ability User".


	2. Chapter 2

"I want to read more"

"Do more and i prefer you do like this again"

"I do so hope you continue this story"

"Awesome!"

"Definitely a continue"

"keep it going please"

You guys are great! After just a few days, I get a bunch of reviews, so now I feel obligated to write more. Punks.

I just recently got caught up in the Railgun manga (are they _trying_ to make my head explode?!), which prompted me to look at my randomly bookmarked Railgun stories (Cun, you're crazy, but the good kind) which led me to read "Big Sister's Responsibility" by GreatSnapper, which inspired me to write this. I thought for sure someone had done this before, but when I looked on FF, the Railgun and Index stories went into the same slot, and there were less than 500 of them!

Well, while I'm trying to think of just what I'm going to do next for my main story, I might as well whip up another chapter.

I must confess something: I have read both mangas and watched the Railgun anime (I can only take so much of Touma punching people in the face with his "fist o' goodness", so I haven't bothered with the Index series…though I really should), but have not read the light novels—yet. To be fair, I didn't know they existed until a few weeks ago. That said, I won't get into characters that play a major role there unless I: 1) read the novels and 2) am interested in the character.

I don't know how well this will work, but I'm going to do one-shots of main characters to define their place in this world, and then write linking chapters including multiple characters; with any luck, I'll have rudimentary plot line by then.

Chapter 2

Shadows Searching in the Night

_["The most efficient accident, in simple assassination, is a fall of 75 feet or more onto a hard surface."]_

If Academy City's level fives were akin to armies, then the level fours were like Special Forces squads. However, unlike the level fives who were all equally powerful (give or take), less than a third of all level fours were a significant force on their own. This was due to a mixture of skill, the usefulness of the ability, and the Ability User's conviction of Personal Reality.

_["Murder is not morally justifiable."]_

A small figure wearing a balaclava crouched against the lip of a tall building; peering across the gap, the darkly clad individual studied a particular lighted office about 40 floors up. Taking a deep breath, the short, androgynous figure readied their mind for their next move before soundlessly disappearing into the night.

_["Assassination of persons responsible for atrocities or reprisals may be regarded as just punishment."]_

Robert Ferdinand Johnson III—Rob to his friends—sat back in his leather chair, enjoying a glass of scotch. He was congratulating himself over a job he had recently completed, one that would net him a ridiculously large payoff.

For the past twenty years, Rob had been involved in child laundering rings, and had been in charge of his own for fifteen. His was no ordinary trafficking operation—he catered to more…refined tastes. He would choose only high-quality children, those who came from "good stock" as he liked to say. While adopting from Africa was all well and good, people who were dropping several grand on a child didn't mind paying a bit extra for superior goods. The parents of such children were often at a high pay grade; though they were presented as being deceased, this was, unfortunately, not always the case. In this way, the career criminal had made a small fortune, building up quite a nice financial portfolio worth upward of six figures.

Like many ambitious individuals, however, avarice was one of his major drives. Apparently, a few hundred thousand Euros was not enough to satisfy him. To that end, he had enacted an audacious plan; kidnapping an Academy City Ability User. It was difficult—that he had to admit—but he had multiple factors working in his favor: a child had ventured outside the walls, a disgruntled employee got too drunk for his own good, and he had the incredible luck of having operatives in Japan. They had been on vacation, but when he had told them of the reward, they had dropped everything and made it to the intercept point in record time. Smuggling the child out of the country was—comparatively speaking—easy.

Rob got out of his chair and stood facing the grand view of the city and lakeside his penthouse offered. He took a sip of his scotch as he remembered how easy it was to find a buyer; practically _child's_ play, actually—he smiled at the inadvertent pun—as they were lining up at the door for a chance to study the infamous Ability Users that could tilt the balance of the world. After an intense four-day round of bidding, a large organization finally won, and he had transferred the "subject" into their hands just a few hours ago. He said "subject" because that was what the child _was_ now. He didn't fool himself—that kid was going to be poked and prodded and ripped down to their basest elements until the buyer found what they were looking for. When he was thinking this operation through, he had sighed heavily, and an uneasy feeling had pervaded his stomach for a minute, but that was it; having a conscience didn't pay well, and for EUR 10 million per kilogram, the child was literally worth more than _fifty times_ their weight in gold.

"Robert Johnson." A voice shattered the silence of the room, the hard edge of it making him freeze for a second before he turned around. In front of him stood a small, black-clad—and most importantly, weaponless—individual. He was about to ask their business when they continued.

_["Hereafter, assassinations in which the subject is unaware will be termed 'simple'"]_

"You have incurred the wrath of Judgment. I assume I do not need to explain your crime."

The fact that someone had managed to get into his room without his knowledge didn't shake him, even the probability that they were masked and making threats was not a big deal—he had dealt with threats before—no, what sent chills down his spine and his fight-or-flight response into overdrive was the slight accent he noticed as the intruder spoke. _"No, it can't be…"_ He was sure he had covered all of his tracks, certain that his bases were covered, but there was no mistaking that clipped tone and penchant for unstressed syllables he knew from his dealings in Japan.

"The punishment for your sins…is death_._" The force behind the interloper's words left him no room for negotiation, and he threw his glass at his assailant, lunging for his gun…only to find his way blocked by the sudden appearance of his attacker. The assassin placed a hand on his chest, and he had time to look into their eyes—a deep well of merciless rage, conviction, and...sadness?—before he suddenly found himself on the other side of the window, the gravity pulling him pitilessly towards the unyielding pavement below. He had no time for any last thoughts as his entire being was consumed by utter terror for the painstakingly long six seconds he had left, his body making a horrible _crunch_ as it smashed into the ground.

The shadowy figure above glanced at the tumbler—still an eighth full—in their hand, placed it neatly on the desk, and disappeared.

_["But assassination can seldom be employed with a clear conscience. Persons who are morally squeamish should not attempt it."]_

_Academy City, two days ago:_

Nothing good ever came of it when the ACME Judgment Division was called in, and this time proved to be no different. To tell the truth, the "Judgment Division" was just a group of Specialists—chosen for their ability to be covert—that would be brought together every so often to deal with problems that were…complicated, politically speaking. When there were no pressing circumstances, they acted in their normal role. Shirai Kuroko was one of these, a level four teleporter with a strong sense of duty. She sat in a small conference room along with three others whose names she did not know—as per an unspoken agreement. Even the handler referred to them with codenames.

_["In safe assassinations, the assassin needs the usual qualities of a clandestine agent. He should be determined, courageous, intelligent, resourceful, and physically active."]_

"We have an assignment for you." Their handler didn't bother with pleasantries as he addressed them. "A child Ability User under our care has been kidnapped. Using various methods, we have tracked down the culprits responsible and the whereabouts of the child.

He took out two small folders—everything was on paper so there was no electronic footprint—and pushed one across the table. "Juggernaut, take Reach and Hindsight and go rescue the girl." The brown-haired girl in the sleeveless orange hoodie flipped the folder open—Kuroko caught a glance of a young girl's smiling face—before nodding and getting up to leave. "As for you, Wraith," Kuroko looked over at the handler as he slid the other folder across to her, "the culprit behind this attack is a well-respected citizen of an ally country. Perhaps he thinks he can escape judgment—show him just how wrong he is." Kuroko opened her folder and found a single piece of paper. On it was a photo ID, an address, and the judgment: termination.

Popping into her room and grabbing her gear, she made it over to the aeronautical wing and found a jet waiting for her. Hopping in, she taxied out of the small hangar before blasting off into the pre-dawn light.

_["If special equipment is to be used, such as firearms or drugs, it is clear that he must have outstanding skill with such equipment."]_

She remembered flight-testing this one, a speed demon that could get mach 8. Her skill in piloting aircraft was a byproduct of her ability, which was perfect for this type of thing. If the aircraft were to crash, she could safely teleport away—her teleportation even let her disregard the conservation of momentum, allowing her to get out of the aircraft without being ripped to shreds by the wind speed. She may have been very by the book, but she had a need for speed that was as natural to her as advanced quantum theory.

In less than an hour, she had arrived at her destination. Landing wasn't a problem, as the vehicle was constructed to touch down vertically if necessary. She made her way across town, marked her target, and teleported into his office.

"Robert Johnson." She smirked as he started, then turned around to face her, a look of trepidation on his face—though he covered it up quickly.

"You have incurred the wrath of Judgment. I assume I do not need to explain your crime." Kuroko watched as the man stared at her for a moment before his eyes widened in fear, his mouth hanging open in shock. She thought of the girl he had taken, the one who would have been dissected like an _animal_ if The City hadn't found her.

"The punishment for your sins…is death_._" He threw his glass at her—she caught it easily, using a finger to teleport the contents back inside the container—and lunged for his desk. She teleported right in front of him and placed a hand on his chest, seeing the horror in his eyes, the desperate need to live—and _nudged_ him with her mind, watching as he appeared outside the window and plummeted downwards, out of sight. She stared at the alcohol in her hand for a moment, her eyes unfocused and blank. Shaking herself out of her stupor, she concentrated for half a second and teleported away, leaving behind nothing but a small note—her personal touch:

_Children are the future; mess with them, and you won't have one._

[End Chapter]

Yeah, I know this was a bit short, but I'll get more into this later. I don't know about that note at the end, but I had to write something. I hope Kuroko wasn't too OOC (that's "out of character" to you new folks). Bonus points to those who get the title chapter (and a smack upside the head if you google it).

I'm sure most of you knew the identity of the "masked intruder" by the second paragraph, but it at least _seemed_ somewhat mysterious, right? The girl in the orange hoodie is that ITEM member (Saiai?) whose codename is, in my opinion, quite appropriate. The other two are just random Ability Users, because I couldn't think of anyone—maybe the AIM stalker girl, and someone with telekinesis? It doesn't really matter.

Next chapter will most likely be Shokuhou (Mental Out), just because she's probably going to be easy to write. However, this is not set in stone, so if you have someone you want to put in, just say so and I'll see what I can do, Michael Weston style XD. [Note: I am only starting to read the LN's now, so if you ask for someone from Vol. 20 or something, I can't promise anything.]

Review! If not for me, then for science!

**Addendum:**

The text in between the paragraphs is from the "CIA assassination handbook", declassified some decades ago and the subject of much debate. Interesting, huh? I would tell you more, but am a bit rushed atm and have to go.


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